The Blanket
by ElivagarVimur
Summary: Leia and Han reflect on their past, as well as a certain blanket close to their hearts. Appeared in Shipped First Class, Volume 3, 2011.


Slowly, her awareness grew. Warmth, darkness. She was buried in a mountain of sheets, while the mass beside her, she registered as her husband, was bare. The faint light of vehicles passing by permeated the curtains of a nearby window, every now and then briefly outlining the contour of his back. She reached out to trace a path of her own, her hand like fire against the cool of his skin. The chill of the air around them nipping at her arm. A wave of guilt rose within her over her unconscious sheet hoarding during the night. As her hand reached his hips, she was halted by a blanket bunched up around them. Rearranging it, she drew it back up over his shoulders. She recognized the feel of it immediately but as another passing light illuminated the room, the beautiful swirls of rust and blue came into view. Hundreds of memories raced through her at the sight, and hundreds more at the touch.

It was on one of their earliest missions together when she saw it for the first time. The ever temperamental_ Falcon_ decided she wasn't putting out, in terms of heat, that night. Though he didn't necessarily want to, being the generous guy he was (and oh, _gods forbid _Her Royalness be the slightest bit uncomfortable), he sacrificed his beloved blanket to warm a needier, smaller body. Just until he could get the heating system stable again. Then it would return to its rightful owner. He'd survive.

Leia recalled him appearing in the doorway of her cabin, the blanket cradled in his arms like a newborn. The way he spoke of it, boasting guarantees of its warmth, but to be careful with the edge because the stitching of the border was coming undone. There was clear hesitance when he finally relieved it to her. The thought of the smuggler having a touch of a soft spot for the blanket caused her to stifle a smirk. Though she saw him try to hide the fact, it had been fairly obvious.

She made sure to keep it at the bottom of the enormous stack of other various blankets he managed scrounge up, like he suggested-three times, in fact. It was quite soft and cozy, and she did sleep comfortably, but it wasn't exactly the incredible _Five Star Han Solo Experience _she half-hoped to receive. She didn't tell him though, for fear she might actually hurt his delicate, blanket-loving feelings.

It wasn't until later nights that she found herself inexplicably missing it.

There had been other times when she'd requested the blanket, always using the excuse that the temperature in her cabin was a bit on the chilly side. In reality, it was perfectly comfortable the majority of the time. She had decided…more so convinced herself, that she just liked the feel of it. And seeing Han squirm to appear indifferent towards it might have been satisfying.

Eventually, it became routine for him to come around and offer it to her. Still reluctant to part with it, he couldn't help the swell of pride and excitement he began to feel whenever she accepted it. It was something they could share and mutually appreciate, even if it was never spoken of. And slowly, it became a safe way for them to share and appreciate each other from a distance.

There had been a fight on the way back from a mission that hadn't gone so smoothly. She had been right and he knew it, but that didn't mean he was about to give in. In an attempt to rile her up even more, wagging his finger in her face, he withheld her blanket privileges for the night. He watched her boil, but the explosion never came. Instead, she mumbled a few choice words coupled with something about 'stupid blankets' and stalked off to her bunk.

Han was left standing somewhere between a fuming princess and a Wookiee hiding in the cockpit from the inevitable. He chose the more desirable option and headed to join his copilot.

He had brought up the fight, even though he was sure Chewbacca didn't want to hear about it. And the Wookiee made damn sure he felt even worse by the end of the discussion. Angry all over again, he left to find something else to keep him busy.

After a few hours of cooling, Leia emerged from her cabin, nearly tripping over something left directly in the doorway. Her anger surged for a split second, about to curse whatever force was conspiring against her tonight…she found the blanket neatly folded at her feet. The flared heat dissipated, and she was left with a spreading warmth.

Much later, he found her at the holochess table as an enormous lump of folds, like Jabba on a good day, her head barely peeking out from the top. She buried her face in it, eyes closed, as if inhaling its scent. His heart melted at the sight. It was an acceptance of his apology (either that, or she really was just using him for his blanket). When she didn't take notice of him as he approached, he thought she may have been asleep. Suddenly her eyes flicked open, embarrassment washing over in shades of red.

Before she was able to compose herself, he was seated beside her. For a long moment he just stared, the low hum of the engines filling the unsettled silence between them.

"You really like that blanket, don't you."

Giving an awkward smile, she looked down at edge of the table, nodding.

"It's yours."

And just like that, he had handed over piece of himself to her. That's when he felt the significant shift in his feelings toward her. Suddenly it wasn't enough, and he wanted to give her more.

The nights on Hoth didn't seem so bad anymore. In the darkness, it was almost as if he was there. His scent surrounded her, completely wrapped in his warmth. The safe way for her to have him.

She still brought it along with her on missions. Then would proceed to almost always "forget it" on the _Falcon_, which meant she would have to come back later to pick it up. And maybe in between the period of time she left it there, it would pick up more of his wonderful scent.

It was right before he announced his departure from the Rebellion that she had left it again. She planned on coming by to pick it up later that night, but the hurt of him leaving cut deep. She didn't want to see the stupid thing ever again, it would be easier if she never did. And she didn't want him knowing how much she cared.

Of course, things changed drastically after all of that.

When he was taken from her, it was how she was able to keep part of him there with her.

When he returned, it was no longer hers, or his, but theirs.

Snapping out of her reverie, she found her husband eying her curiously. She gave him a soft, sleepy smile and moved closer beside him, lifting the blanket to cocoon them both.

"You looked like you could use a little warmth," she said settling in next to him.

"Well then thank the Force we have this blanket, huh?"

She chuckled and let the pull of sleep drag them away once more.


End file.
